Six Minutes
by Blazichu
Summary: ...That never happened. A series of "What ifs" that include spoilers up to and including ACiT. Minorly AU at the worst, updated spur-of-the-moment. Currently: "Fellow fangirls, shippers, slashers..." Or, a movie premier goes pear-shaped. -Fluffy, R/C-
1. What it's Not

**_Warning-- spoilers for ACiT start NOW!_**

If you haven't finished and want to keep yourself spoiler-free, turn away quickly!

...Did "The Plumber's Advice" bug anybody else? I mean, the phrase "It's not a time machine" was a major part of the last scene, but...wasn't it _just_ used as one? Forgive me if I'm overlooking some majorly important plot point...but I never _have_ been good at science...

Oh, I should probably mention that this one _isn't_ a positive oneshot. It's not majorly depressing, but it's definitely not the fluff that I'm so fond of...

* * *

It had taken longer to get the Great Clock fixed up than the little mech would have liked to admit.

After facing an angry lombax, a great deal of the machinery needed to be repaired; with so much delicate work to be done, it was bound to take awhile. Opposing that was the pressing issue of the heavier equipment that needed to be mended, and it never seemed like anything could wait. If _only_ they had another pair of hands around here, then _maybe_-

No, he couldn't start thinking about that; he wouldn't let himself…because, if he _did_ then he would be admitting that…

Briefly, Clank shut his optic sensors, only to snap back to attention as a group of Zoni flew by with a childish "Wheee!". The caretaker shook his head in exasperation and slowly made his way toward the Orvus chamber, keeping a tight grip on the Chronoscepter. He had absolutely no idea where Sigmund had gotten off to; wherever the larger bot was, though, he was probably still arguing with the computer. The thought made him smile, if just for a moment.

Briefly, he cast a glance off to the side, where Aphelion had once docked. She was long gone, now; to where was anybody's guess. Perhaps another galaxy, or maybe just back to Fastoon or the Apogee Space Station; it was hard to tell, sometimes, what she would argue about with her pilot. The ship was hardly the worst of Clank's concerns when it came to where someone had gone, though. Qwark didn't top the list either, though the bot certainly hoped that the self proclaimed "Mega hero" had made it out of the Nefarious Space Station intact. It was…concerning that Lawrence had escaped; there was no telling what the former butler was doing, now. Blarg, maybe he wasn't even _in_ the market for an "evil" job anymore; either way, it wasn't Clank's business, now.

The chamber was empty when he entered it, as per the usual; something was happening very quickly on one of the screens positioned in the room, but he paid it no mind. Instead, his gaze was focused on the control mechanism for the entire clock. Again, Clank shut his eyes, giving his head a good shake this time. He turned away from the switch, toward the control panel for the holographic message Orvus had left behind; he watched the copy of his father idly, only _just_ paying any attention.

"-like any father, my only wish-"

Having heard something behind him, the little mech whirled around, accidentally pausing the recording. What he found, however, wasn't anything- or anyone- new.

"You're thinking again, aren't you? You really _do_ worry too much, pal."

Not for the first time, his sight sensors blurred; and Clank had the feeling that, were he an organic being, he'd be on the verge of tears. "Of course I worry. Just look at what has happened due to my carelessness…"

The lombax reached out to lay a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, but apparently thought better of it, and brought his hand back after reaching halfway. "It wasn't your fault; we both know the Clock's not a time machine…"

"There must have been _something_ that I could have done…"

"C'mon, that's not true and you know it. Things didn't turn out…too badly, anyway."

"How is this not "too badly"? _Must_ I remind you that you are _dead_?"

There was a brief, awkward silence, before Ratchet spoke up. "…by whose standards?"

"Any organic being!" The caretaker snapped, uncharacteristically enraged, "Will you _please_ take this seriously?"

"I am." The lombax answered shortly, "I'm going to do whatever you need me to, pal; I'm here for you."

"I-I am aware of that."

That tone was certainly not what he'd been expecting; quite suddenly, a frightening prospect occurred to the apparition. "If you want me to, I can leave."

Clank failed to reply to this; he just stared up at his longtime companion sadly. As he'd often done in the past, Ratchet knelt down to the robot's level, reaching out a transparent hand to rest on his shoulder; it never made contact, but they'd both been expecting that. The lombax offered his best friend a weary smile, then vanished, as he was prone to doing, recently.

Clank sighed and leaned the Chronoscepter up against the console, next to the one piece of equipment that had failed to make it back with Aphelion: the Omniwrench. Almost automatically, he reached over and reactivated the recording.

"-is that my son does that which makes him feel whole."

He wished he could; he really did.


	2. Justification

M'kay, this one's short, and I'm sorry about that, but this wouldn't leave me alone. Thanks for all of the possible explanations from "The Plumber's Advice", too!

(On a side note, you know you're officially writing too much fanfiction when, after telling Word to ignore "Dimensionator" for the fifteenth time, you get annoyed and run through _everything _you have written, related to the fandom and add it to the dictionary... (I find it amusing that, somehow, I managed to fit "Vullard", "constructo" and "Florana" into the same body of text...)) Anyway, you probably don't care about my ramblings...

* * *

Percival wasn't stupid, far from it, in fact. He knew lombaxian law, having been raised on Fastoon, and was perfectly aware that his current mission might not be accurate. Personally, he could live with there being _one_ lombax in the known universe, provided it was Azimuth. The elder had been a great help, after all; why not reward him with his life? The cragmite grinned at the thought, completely certain that Alister wouldn't see it as a favor, after unwittingly betraying his kind. That just made the plot all the more beautiful, though. Of course, he couldn't be sure that Azimuth _was_ in this dimension. Lombaxian courts weren't always predictable, and there would have hardly been time for a sentencing; it was just as likely that they'd brought the commander of the guard with them, to preside over his punishment.

But let Kaden's son live? No, no; that wouldn't do at all.

The keeper of the Dimensionator had been a thorn in Tachyon's side for far too long, and had been finished off too quickly for the cragmite's liking. Kaden's wife, however… Percival hadn't meant to kill her; she had been kind to him where others had been cruel. He'd merely meant to scare her off, but she had refused to leave without her husband and child; there had been nothing more to do for her, at that point.

With _his_ parents, the chance involved with letting that lombax live was simply too great. Not to mention the fact that Percival was looking forward to finishing what he'd started with the house of Zenith…

What a pain! Kaden just _had_ to turn this whole thing into a wild goose chase, didn't he? It had taken years upon years to narrow the search to the Solana galaxy; even longer to consider Veldin, being the backwater planet that it was. And the worst part was that, just as soon as Tachyon had considered making his move, that lombax was gone _again_! He'd heard rumors that it had been an impromptu trip to the Bogon galaxy, but really didn't care what had happened, so long as his target returned. It was certainly frustrating, having his masterfully laid plans smashed to pieces by blathering fools of villains, over and over again; most of which didn't even know _what_ they were up against.

Oh, Tachyon would acknowledge the race's resourceful nature; he'd learned a great deal from them, after all. Had they not been his natural enemies, the lombaxes would have been wonderful company, but the entire species had wronged him in a way that he couldn't fully articulate. Were they aware of the pain that it inspired, not knowing one's origins or seeing another like one's self? Of course not! It was justice, as far as Percival was concerned: the Cragmites had been forced into another dimension, and so too had their rivals.

Sometimes, though, his determination wavered. He could justify the entire race, that was easy; but now- as far as he was aware- the population was definitely smaller, to say the least. There were days when Tachyon simply couldn't decide what would be a worse punishment for the last of his adversaries: a simple death, or to continue with an uncertain existence, the very same that he, Percival, had endured.

But the cragmite, having invested so much time and effort into seeing things from the perspective of general Alister Azimuth, didn't realize that he now viewed the world in a similar way. When he finally caught up to that blasted Zenith, all he could see was a reflection of Kaden. That hadn't left a choice: Emperor Percival Tachyon, for once in his lifetime, acted on instinct alone.

Perhaps there was a reason that Cragmites were not known for their intuition.


	3. I Promise

This one…is difficult to explain. It was originally wild mass guessing of mine from before ACiT's release, but I've tweaked it a little to make sense in place of the game's actual ending (and my...other alternate ending). It's mostly the same, since I'd imagined Alister… well, yeah. Orvus was the only real stumbling block…but I think it worked out alright.

_**Again, spoilers for ACiT ahead. **_

* * *

As he finished repairing the innards of some control that he didn't know the name of, Ratchet winced. He'd been strongly favoring his right arm during all of the repair work, since he was absolutely certain that he'd managed to dislocate his left shoulder, somewhere in the day's struggles. Not that his right arm was faring much better; that was due mostly to overexertion, though. The lombax was just flat-out exhausted; he'd been on a mission that had spanned years, and had come to its high point within the last few days. And, in most ways, that mission had turned out to be a compete failure. He sighed and put the Omniwrench down, before ever-so-gracefully collapsing to a seated position beside it.

What a day; none of his other adventures could even compare to it! Drek? No way, that was far too early in the career path as "hero-slash-demolition team". Dreadzone? What a joke! Not even Tachyon could hold his ground against this. The places he'd seen, the people he'd encountered, even meeting Alister paled in comparison! Ratchet knew that an even harder task was still to come, though, approaching far too quickly.

Today, he had to say goodbye to Clank.

The lombax leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He didn't mean to sound sappy or anything, but couldn't help wondering whether the lingering ache in his chest was truly due to the attack that Alister had never really carried out.

He…he owed Clank this, though. Who knew where he'd be- _if_ he'd be!- if the little robot hadn't coaxed him into helping, all those years ago? It wasn't a pleasant thought, since it meant that the majority of Solana would, in all likelihood, be in ruins.

_Why_ in the three Bogonian hells had he even _considered_ altering the past, like that? It was idiotic! Alister had promised him his family, but…he already _had_ one…

…Emphasis on _had_.

Ratchet sighed again, into his hands, before lifting his head and rubbing at his eyes. This was for the best! For Clank's benefit! He would _not_ get in the way of that! He…he wasn't going to cry! But…he knew he was kidding himself, on that last one. Wearily, the lombax rose to his feet, wavering slightly before using the Omniwrench to steady himself.

There was still one more thing left to fix.

Ears drooping, he turned to the last of the damaged consoles, noticing vaguely that it had already been unplugged. Helpful at the moment, but it really made him wonder how well this…Sigmund knew his stuff. Just a few minutes before he'd finished, the two robots reentered the chamber, having, apparently, finished the jobs they'd set out to take care of. Ratchet didn't respond right away, he didn't even look up from his work. It was pointless, but made him feel better for the moment. That literally was a moment, too, since the next thing he knew, he was plugging the console back in and clumsily standing back up.

In that same instance, the room darkened dramatically, drawing all eyes to the frozen hologram. The lombax hung his head, realizing that his time with Clank was up.

"You okay?" Sigmund asked suddenly, startling the little bot out of a daze.

"Fine." Ratchet whispered, though he'd intended to sound far more confident about it. He began to reach out toward his friend, but stopped, drawing his hand back quickly, as though he'd been stung, and glanced over his aching shoulder at the chamber's exit, slowly looking back, forcing a thoroughly unconvincing smile.

"Guess it's time for me to go, huh?" It wasn't really a question; though, somehow, it sounded stronger than the earlier rasping. The lombax didn't bother raising a hand in parting; one was still pressed to the decal over his chest, and the other hung limply at his side, wrench practically dangling from his numb fingertips. "Pal…stay safe."

_I'll miss you._

As he turned away, the fake grin vanished, his ears drooped ever-so-slightly, despite an effort not to let it show, and the lombax blinked furiously, trying to stall the inevitable tears, if just for a few minutes. Curiously, the entire room remained silent, save for his light footfalls.

"I am curious where you believe you are headed, fur ball." There was a beat of silence, before rapid metallic footfalls drew closer. Stunned, Ratchet turned back around, unsure as to where this was headed. Green sight sensors glowed back at him, and the little robot smiled faintly, looking fondly exasperated. "Despite the fact that the Clock is now functioning properly, your arm must be repaired, as well."

As if to demonstrate the fact, he gently brushed his hand against the larger, gloved one within reach, and looked up, only to find that his gaze was not returned. Curious. Clank didn't have long to theorize about this oddity, since, habitually, the lombax knelt down to face him, answering the question in the process.

His eyes were closed because he…he was crying.

It was difficult to say what could have caused this… Clank had only ever seen Ratchet come _close_ to tears a handful of times. On such occasions, he could hardly blame his organic companion; the disbelieving betrayal had been clear, after their conversation with IRIS, and red hot fury hadn't been surprising, once Drek's plans for Veldin had been uncovered. This…was different, and he wasn't sure how.

Of course, the little robot had absolutely no way of knowing that this instance _wasn't_ isolated; he'd been completely out of it, in this very place, the first time that emotion had _truly_ overcome the lombax. After his absence had sunk in and their companions in the quest for the Dimensionator had tried to console the stunned hero- Ratchet had hastily fled the scene, and nobody had caught sight of him for hours afterwards. In the single day, the sobs had outnumbered those having taken place over the lombax's entire life. Were he aware of this fact, the quiet weeping wouldn't have surprised Clank to such a degree; but as it remained, the bot was uninformed of it.

He couldn't help but wonder why this had come as such a surprise, though; surely Ratchet knew that he would not leave him? The lombax in question smiled, unseen; it was not so much the fact that he was surprised, as much as it was the promise that the action sealed. It had been an unspoken assurance, a coded one; something that you had to have knowledge of to understand. At the time he'd made it, Ratchet had still been very much a child; he hadn't wanted to sound weak.

It was an indescribable comfort, knowing that Clank had understood it, even if it did take years to find the right time to return the promise.  
And, when he finally opened his eyes, he found that same mech, still smiling at him, still reassuring him. Wordlessly, Clank trapped the lombax's one 'good' hand, and waited for him to get back up.

"Come along, Ratchet, you have a promise to keep, as do I."

_I'll never abandon you._


	4. Hero Worship

...I am so sorry for this. It's mentally scarring, I know, but is also something that's tugged at my mind since ToD... I wrote it awhile back, but (aside from the obvious issue) looked fine to me, when I glanced back over it. I remember the three phases of writing this, actually: "...Should I even _consider_ writing this?", "_What_ am I writing?" and "_Why_ did I just write that?"

But…yeah, this is pretty much just a crack-oneshot with a complimentary (though one-sided, (thank _goodness_)) pairing. It's slashy, so if you don't like that…well, I'll have more free time to write in a few days. Hopefully that'll wind up with something more…sane.

...on the bright side, the spoilers for ACiT are kept to a minimum... (-is hoping that nobody is planning her untimely death-)

* * *

For the love of himself, Qwark couldn't understand what he'd been thinking, lately. Granted, he'd be alongside the majority of the universe's population for once, since very few beings could actually interpret his actions correctly, but that was rather sad considering the subject. The captain had just been acting…differently lately, in ways that most might not notice, since they would probably be distracted fairly easily.

Sure, he'd been following Ratchet and Clank for quite some time now; but that had mainly been to stay up on galactic heroics and an attempt to snag the spotlight himself. On this last adventure, though, he wasn't entirely sure _why_ he followed the lombax. Yeah, that reporter had partially guilted Qwark into it, but maybe there was something else going on.

From his spot, clinging to Snowball's back (which was the only safe place, currently) he wondered when things had gotten more complicated. This, like most other issues, could probably be traced back to Apogee station just a few years ago. In the back of his mind, Qwark would admit that he was quite fond of the pair of eccentric adventurers; he hadn't been sure what to believe when Clank had 'disappeared', but that didn't last long. The stunned lombax left in the courtyard had captured Qwark's attention not long after.

It almost physically _hurt_ to see that expression, and that fact (like many others) had the hero puzzled. Not many people recognized Ratchet's efforts, which was something in and of itself. It wasn't something that had occurred to Qwark initially, few things did, but the lombax was quite remarkable. Naturally quick and resourceful, handy with a wrench (in both the mechanically and destructively gifted senses) and witty, to boot; he'd changed over the years, but it was a change for the better. _Something_ had made the lombax realize that, if he didn't alter something- and fast- he was going to be headed down a dark road; Qwark was simultaneously curious and fearful of what could have sparked that. Whatever it was, though, had a wonderful effect.

Qwark would never admit it, but the lombax had achieved a great deal more than _he'd_ dreamed of; the humanoid's eight years of high-school had been focused on, among other things, melodrama, pranks involving pants, and (for four years, anyway) taunting Nefarious. That didn't leave much room for planning a future. It was ironic, but, in a way, the celebrity had gained a sort of hero-worship for the smaller organic. Just for a moment (or five…what? It was a tricky subject!) Qwark considered everything that both lombax and robot had achieved. They'd saved Solana with a mostly-improvised plan of attack, kept Bogon from being polluted by…well…him, prevented the removal of all organic beings from the universe; the list just went on and on. Nowadays, it was hard for Qwark to find any flaws with how they went about doing things.

Yeah, he'd droned on about Clank being Ratchet's only friend not long ago; he hadn't wanted to be left out, though. Hey, the lombax had been aware of _his_ existence longer than his partner-in-crime's! Could you really blame a hero?

Being both otherwise distracted and completely ignorant of such nuances, said hero failed to realize that he sounded quite jealous. Of Clank. That was ridiculous, of course, but he wouldn't have realized that, either. Qwark couldn't even divulge it to himself, he was so completely unaware, but his admiration went way past hero worship. All of those traits he held in high regard, heroics-wise, Ratchet had mastered; the same lombax had managed to avoid the limelight, corruption and (most) endorsement deals. (Really, it was impossible to completely avert, what with there being an impromptu 'toy' based on himself.) It would have seemed, were one familiar with the captain's mindset, that the small almost-mercenary could do no wrong.

Ratchet himself was painfully aware of the fact that Qwark had been far too close for comfort, lately. Particularly back in Nefarious's base, right after blowing up the space armada. That had been surreal, and (from wherever the lombax currently was) he _really _hoped that it had never actually happened.

Back when he was an announcer at the Imperial Fight Festival, Qwark had been telling the truth. The furry little hero _did_ remind him of, well, _himself_; an idealized version of himself, anyway. And, throughout his lifetime, there were several points that the celebrity had driven home, time and time again. One was that, no matter what the product was, he'd endorse it, provided there was a hefty paycheck (and several bananas) in it for him.

The second was that there was nothing Qwark loved more than himself.


	5. The Trouble with HoloVision

This is something that occurred to me awhile ago, and that I just now finished. It** contains implied slash/shipping** (specifically,** R/C** and a scattering of conversed crack pairings), and copious amounts of Qwark, but definitely not the same way it did last time. Oh captain, why do you set yourself up for things like this?

(On a side note, I'm aware that this resembles another oneshot of mine. I feel too guilty to delete that one, but I really wish that I'd thought of this first. I suppose, if one were so inclined, this could be read as a follow-up, but it stands alone perfectly well.)

* * *

This was the big day; the premier of the newest _Secret Agent Clank_ film. Fans of all sorts- male and female, robotic and organic, sane and fangirl- had formed cliques in front of holo-theatres all over the universe. It was notable that the titular hero wasn't present at any of them; in fact, he hadn't been seen publicly (in the _Agent _persona, that was) for quite some time, but that didn't stop rabid fans from going berserk over the latest installment of the series.

There _were _some beings in attendance merely to watch fans interact with one another, instead of gathering to actually see the film. Some of the fans in question had formed groups supporting one character over another- the most infamous was one promoting Maximillian over Agent Clank, the members of which were known to attack- verbally or, in extreme cases, physically- anyone who expressed a like of the pint-sized hero. There were other types of fans, of course; the ones who were the most fun to pester were the shippers- those who paired various characters up, romantically. Skrunch and the Baroness was the most notorious following, as "the Baroness's" actress had been less than amused; in fact, Courtney Gears had practically declared war against that part of the fan community. There were a myriad of other pairings out there, but, on this particular day, the action lay with one particular club of so-called "slashers".

The apparent leader- a Markazian with obnoxiously pink hair- stood above her peers, elevated by the combined efforts of a nondescript crate and dangerously high platform shoes, and surveyed the crowd. Thus far, things had progressed as they usually did; the Maximillian sympathizers had gotten one of their number dragged away after assaulting some poor, stupid fanboy, the "Skrunchess" shippers had already been screamed at by 'Ms. Gears', and the Agent Clank/Madame de Milo fans had been successfully fended off. It was a bit more active than it had been last year, true, but it was to be expected- every new film would garner new fans, after all, and there was no way that the older watchers would back down when their favorite series was getting a new installment.

She tapped at her jaw thoughtfully, running down a mental list:

- Whack-bags lashing out at innocent bystanders, check

- Interspecies romance lovers being brought down a peg, check

- "That group of homophobes" threatened with bodily injury, _definite_ check

- Idiots-who-wouldn't-know-good-taste-if-it-bit-them-in-the-collective-ass chased with torches and pitchforks... not check.

Scanning the crowd for clues as to where the group might lay in wait, her gaze slid by the numerous banners and signs that her fellow fangirls had crafted before flitting over a "WE LOVE YOU BIG AL" poster that some random woman was holding, and beyond. Distantly, she noted that some of them had gotten very creative, this year- and that she needed to tell _some_ to lay off the puns.

Ah, there they were- her people's greatest enemy.

In hindsight, it wasn't too hard to figure out where their rival fangroup had set up shop- whereas her 'sisters' tended to favor greys and golds in their banners, their nemesis used green and gold and, while they had hard _evidence _to back their claim, the others used baseless conjecture and outright insanity.

Agent Clank/Jeeves was so _totally_ the way to go. Those nutty Jeeves/Skrunch shippers were just... _wrong_. Just. Wrong. Even Jeeves' _actor_ was creeped out by the concept, and the official word on the pairing was "...the hell...?"

It boggled the mind how _so many_ could support such an inane idea- Skrunch was Jeeves' _replacement_. They never even appeared in the same continuity! They didn't even speak the same language! Skrunch was... a cyclo-monkey! It was just weird! She pointedly ignored the fact that she'd just paraphrased Courtney Gears' arguments against "Skrunchess", not wanting to even _consider_ herself on that same level, and turned back to 'her people', preparing to rally the troops. She failed to notice one _little_ detail until her would-be tirade began, though.

"Fellow fangirls, shippers, slashers, today we celebrate the glory of- _oh my god..._"

* * *

All things considered, it was a relatively peaceful night on Kyzil Plateau.

"Peaceful" being a relative term, of course.

From where he was leaning up against the clunky old ship that had taken over his garage, Ratchet casually flipped the omniwrench end over end, exasperated by the current project. "Remind me again," He began loudly, so he'd be heard across the modest domicile, "_Why_ we're putting up with this dinosaur?"

"I believe that it had something to do with blackmail." Came the succinct answer, "Did Al not have photographic evidence of-"

"Yes. I _know._"

"You were the one who asked." Clank shot back, as he meandered back into view, "And it was also _your _decision to repair Al's delivery ship, as opposed to allowing him access to the RYNO."

The lombax winced at the reminder, "Pal... I can't be the _only_ one who wants to keep that kind of artillery out of Al's hands. Can you _imagine_ what might happen? We're supposed to protect the universe from that kind of threat, not make it possible!"

"I... suppose that is true."

"Of course it's true. When have I ever..." Ratchet trailed off, considering what he'd been about to say, "Oh, forget it. It's stupid to say and you would just answer- even though it's _obviously_ a rhetorical question- then I'd get mad and we'd start arguing again."

"I prefer the term 'bantering'." Clank replied brightly, proving, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the lombax had been a bad influence on him, "I do not see the point in complaining, though. You are nearly finished with the repairs."

The mechanic shrugged, resting the omniwrench on his shoulder, "Yeah, but this thing's way more trouble than it's worth, and I just _know_ we're gonna be roped into fixing it again when this patchjob fails. Al needs to buckle down and buy a replacement, if you ask me... And before you say it, I know you didn't ask."

"I was not going to mention that." The robot said, hopping up onto the hood of the cruiser so they were roughly on the same level, "You are usually correct when it comes to the upkeep of such ships, so long as you are not allowed to pilot them. I am certain that Aphelion appreciates your skill, as well."

Ratchet rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, so it was probably a good sign. He tossed the omniwrench onto one of the old, wrecked chairs that still decorated the garage-space and pushed away from the ship, offering his hand, "C'mon pal, the rest of the work is cosmetic and I could use a break- let's head back inside."

"Go on ahead. I would like to take a look at the control panel, if you do not mind."

There was a telltale beep from the actual house at that point, indicating that somebody was trying to get through to the communications unit. Ratchet shrugged again, turning toward the sound, "Knock yourself out- but there's no water damage this time, and I managed to keep from electrocuting myself, so it's not really that interesting."

As Clank hopped down from his perch and into the cruiser's open cockpit, the other sprinted away in an attempt to catch the caller before he or she gave up... and, even though Ratchet had shouted earlier, he was still perfectly audible- even from across the house- just by using a so-called 'indoor voice'.

"I'm working on it, Al- what do want?" Speak of the Solanian canidevil... "Somehow, I doubt that... ...No, of course not! _Why_ would we go to the premier? The last time we tried dealing with the _Agent Clank_ fans, things got… well, you know."

A silence.

"_Yes_ the chimp-o-matic!

"Mmm hmm. Yeah, I know. I was _there_- in case you forgot, it was me who, uh, _accidentally _dropped those groovitrons when that failed… ...as much as I _love_ talking about this, I can't help wondering whether there was, y'know, a _reason_ you called.

"...Okay, okay, I'll turn on the TV." There was a shuffling and then a dull roar as holo-vision set was powered up. "Hey, pal, Al wants you to see whatever's going on, here!"

He hadn't finished double checking the electronics in the cruiser, just yet, but, knowing Al, this probably couldn't wait... so, somewhat grudgingly, Clank abandoned his post in order to investigate.

...But, when he saw what was on the screen, he rethought that decision. It had been a relatively pleasant day, thus far, and he really didn't want to spoil it with his insane fanbase.

"Ratchet..." The 'bot started reproachfully, only to be interrupted when the lombax held up his hands, trying to prove his innocence.

"Whoa, don't look at me- Al's the one who brought it up!"

"And since when, exactly, do you follow Al's orders?"

The mechanic grumbled something mostly-unintelligible, but the word 'photo' was definitely involved.

"_Guys?_" And to think, they'd almost forgotten that the instigator was actually _right there_- or, well, a communications link to him was. "_Can we _focus_?_"

In a marvelous harmony, both of the heroes huffed in annoyance and turned back to the screen; Ratchet flopped back onto the second of the old armchairs in an undignified heap and, after a moment's consideration, reached over and caught Clank around the wrist, tugging him closer before simply grabbing the robot and hoisting him up. Clank was less than thrilled with the choice- he _could_ have asked- but didn't complain.

For whatever reason, Al had _been _watching- and, by extension, had just instructed _them_ to watch- one of those silly entertainment channels- the kind that didn't _play_ movies, but put out programs _about_ holo-vision or actors. This particular block, predictably enough, was focusing on the premier of _The Man with the Mega Multi-star_.

It was actually kind of embarrassing, seeing so many sapient- and (probably) intelligent- beings reduced to such...idiocy. Sometimes these premiers actually led to physical violence and, while he couldn't say that he was absolutely against such means to an end, it wasn't right to see people coming to blows over a _movie_. As individuals the fans were generally very pleasant- if not somewhat eccentric- and, way back when the series had started, it had actually been rather nice to talk to them; it hadn't been like that in years, though, which was why, after a particularly nasty publicity event last year, Clank had resolved to avoid such gatherings.

That wasn't to say that he hadn't had any ulterior motives, though. Some of the ideas they were getting were just...weird- and that was coming from someone who dealt with Captain-_ahem, Galactic President_ Qwark on a semi-regular basis. After all of the trouble that she'd caused, the robot was reluctant to sympathize with Courtney Gears, but there was something inherently _wrong_ about seeing Skrunch paired off with _anybody_... and Ratchet still hadn't completely recovered from that little trend in shipping. Clank suspected that it had something to do with that anecdote about Qwark, Skrunch's sister and 'mating season', and immediately dismissed the thought. He'd dodged a bullet in not hearing it first hand- Ratchet's horrified retelling had been amusing, not downright scarring- and he really didn't want to let his imagination fill in the gaps.

The camera panned over the throng, trying to focus on some outburst in the crowd and, eventually, settled on- of all people- Qwark himself. It shouldn't have surprised anybody at this point, but managed to, anyway.

"_Just wait for it..._" Al cut in, breaking the relative silence. Ratchet glared at the comm. unit's screen, but refrained from starting anything.

The cameraman approached the scene just in time to catch the end of a stunned "_Oh my god..."_

"_President... Qwark...? What are you doing _here_?"_

"_Supporting a noble cause!" _The so-called hero promptly answered, _"How can I back the entire galaxy if I can't even back my fellow fans?"_

Clank sighed; he knew for a fact that Qwark wasn't a fan of the holo-vision series, but, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what the president was trying to accomplish in attending an event like this. Yes, it _might_ make him seem, well, _normal_, but that was hardly something that the humanoid would concern himself with- he spent most of his time trying to look extraordinary, and it would go against everything that he'd worked towards to pull this stunt _now_. The little mech glanced at Ratchet, who had his chin propped up on one arm, looking unimpressed.

"_I simply _can't_ go on, allowing poor, innocent civilians to be lured away from the truth!"_

"_...'truth'...?"_ Somebody asked, sounding (justifiably) wary.

"_Of course! It would be cruel to allow people to believe in those horrible lies! I, Galactic President Qwark, stand before you today to spread the word- 'Agent Clank' and 'Jeeves' are completely dedicated to one another, and we _must_ stop those other, terrible rumors!"_

Ratchet and Clank exchanged dry glances, and the former found himself unable to keep from commenting, "Well, either he's actually trying to be nice- _kind of_- or he's trying to embarrass us."

There was a beat of silence, and then they both spoke at once.

"He's trying to embarrass us."

"He is attempting to embarrass us."

"_Shush!"_ Al hissed from the communications link, watching intently as the camera shifted to get a better angle, _"There- in the top-left corner! Isn't it insane?"_

"Uh...yeah?" The lombax responded, before even following the direction.

"_I have _fans_!"_

Ratchet winced and flattened his ears against his skull, trying futilely to defend himself against the squeal's sheer _volume_. While the mechanic was still reeling from the auditory assault, Clank took a look at the corner in question and caught a brief glimpse of a poster with "WE LOVE YOU BIG AL" emblazoned on it. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with something to say.

"That... is very fortunate, Al. Congratulations."

Acting on the opposite extreme, Ratchet hopped up from the seat, abruptly closed the link, and made a determined path towards the garage, "You've gotta be kidding me…"

Unsure whether he really_ did_ want to know or not, Clank stood up, still perched on the chair, but ready to follow the other if need be. "Ratchet… where are you going?"

The lombax paused, "To see if we've still got that electro-magnet. I need to make one more adjustment to Al's ship before I return it, tomorrow… don't wait up."

"_Ratchet!"_

He turned back around, his somewhat maniacal smirk gradually softening.

"What?" The lombax asked, selling an air of innocence that the Clank wasn't buying. Still smiling, he meandered back over and tilted his head to the side, like a confused kit. "You didn't want to help make the delivery, and I'll make sure Aphelion picks me up by the time Al's internal failsafe kicks in."

"You are simply _asking_ for trouble."

"I know." Ratchet replied airily, leaning forward. "Thanks for caring, though." He added- almost as an afterthought- pressing the side of his face to Clank's affectionately.

Whether this was intentional-as a diversion- the universe will never know, but it certainly served as such, and the mechanic seized the opportunity to make a clean getaway.

It was a moment before much of anything occurred to the giggling 'bot, but when he finally _did_ snap back to reality…

"Ratchet, so help me, if I find that you have modified that cruiser to-"

"_Relax_, pal," The other called from the garage, "I just realized that I'd have all of Metropolis on my case if I used the magnet… Where did you leave the chimp-o-matic after that book signing, again?"

Clank shook his head, but was fairly certain that he could win this one. Plan A was a bust, and, if he had any say in it, plan B wouldn't get anywhere either. Since plan C was usually "blow something up"-combined with the fact that such a course of action would _not _be tolerated- Al's delivery ship was probably safe. Probably.

Briefly, Clank wondered why he put up with all of this, but the answer came to him as quickly as ever: he simply would not be able to live _without_ that trigger happy lombax of his.

Hey, even Qwark had to be right some of the time.

* * *

Whenever I slash, I always see something like this happening; for all of his book smarts and logic, I think that Clank would be a total softie when confronted with some sign of affection… Sorry if it seems too out of character for him, but I love it!


End file.
